Of all that this failure meant, Hetty
understood more clearly now than when she had wished to live with Mrs.
Kane and be the village schoolmistress. Loving all that was beautiful
and refined in life, she had learned to dread, from another motive than
pride, the fate of being thrown upon a lower social level. And yet this
was a fate which seemed now to stare her in the face.
Mr. Enderby, who had of late taken a personal interest in her studies,
examining her from time to time on various subjects, said to her:
"My little girl, if you do not wake up and work harder I fear you will
have to take an inferior position in life to that which I desired for
you."
Poor Hetty! Was she not wide awake? So wide awake that when he and all
the household were asleep she lay staring her misfortune in the face.
And how could she work harder than she did, weeping in secret over the
dry facts that would not leave their mark upon her brain? Thus it was
that life looked dreary to her, and her face was grave and pale. Phyllis
and Nell, who were three and two years older than herself, had begun to
talk of the joys which the magic age of eighteen had in store for them.
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